Hot for Teacher
by IlluminatedShadow
Summary: Matthew has always had a crush on Arthur, his best friend Alfred's older brother. Alfred really, really likes Matthew. Unfortunately, Arthur is Matthew's new teacher. Alfred is not happy. AU
1. Chapter 1

Hi all. -nervous smile- I realize there are other things I should be working on but I really couldn't resist. I don't even remember what I was watching, but all of a sudden I was like 'haha what if Matt like Arthur and Alfred liked Matt and Arthur was a teacher' then I was like "ahahahaha- 0.0" and then I started typing. Btw, have you guys heard the dubbed voice for France? Yeah, his laugh was playing in my head the entire time. It was beautiful and disturbing. And that means it was wonderful. XD

note: the first section in italics is a flashback, all other italicized words are for stress or are thoughts

Edit: I went back and changed Arthur from history teacher to English/Literature teacher. I thought it was more fitting. XD

Pairings (as of now): one-sided Matthew/Arthur, one-sided Alfred/Matthew, past Francis/Matthew

Warnings: AU, slash, inappropriate student-teacher relationships, OOCness, language

Disclaimer: After reading this, its very clear that I don't own Hetalia nor do I ever deserve to.

* * *

"_Hurry up Matt!" Alfred hollered at another blond child from the bottom of the steps. "That game ain't gonna play itself!" The grade-schooler huffed impatiently when the other blond threw him a displeased glare before smiling brilliantly up at their teacher._

"_Teacher's pet." Alfred grumbled, pout deepening when he saw Matthew bashfully toe the ground as Miss Braginskaya, their young teacher, patted the smaller blond on the head. Finally, clutching the red straps of his backpack, Matthew said goodbye to the pretty young woman and trotted down the steps, heading towards Alfred who was waiting with a scowl and crossed arms._

"_Took ya long enough." The blue-eyed blond sneered, turning and starting to walk away before Matthew even reached him._

"_You're just too impatient." The other little boy chided, easily catching up with the sulking boy. "I was just thanking Miss Braginskaya for being such a nice teacher."_

"_Who does that, Mattie?" Throwing a questioning look at his friend, Alfred continued, "You're such a teacher's pet."_

"_I was being polite!" Matthew defended, pale cheeks flushing even as his eyes sharpened in anger. "And I like her! She was really nice."_

"_Well, if you like her so much, why dontcha marry her?" Alfred snapped, whirling around and stomping his foot._

_Violet eyes widened before Matthew, hurt by his friend's comments shot back, "Maybe I will!"_

_Alfred, clearly not expecting that response, stilled. "W-wha…? No… no you can't do that!"_

"_Why not? You're not the boss of me! You can't tell me what do, Al!"_

"_B-but who'll play with me in the summer! If you get married, you'll have to get a job and then you'll be too busy to come over."_

"_So?" Matthew shrugged, turning his head. _

"_What about my new game?" Alfred whined, starting to freak out because it looked like Matthew was actually serious and the last thing he ever wanted was for Matthew to stop being his friend and hanging out with him._

"_I don't care."_

_Alfred stared at his best friend with a shocked expression on his face. Then, unbidden, his eyes began to itch and water. Sniffling bravely, he roughly scrubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands. "F-fine! Be that way! I don't need you." He muttered, turning away, his chest hurting._

_Matthew, arms still crossed and still stinging from the other's previous teasing, chanced a peek at the other boy. The other blond had his back to him, head bowed. The stubborn cowlick that Alfred had had since forever seemed to be drooping and the occasional sniffle escaped from the usually exuberant boy._

_Feeling his anger slowly drift away, Matthew sighed and inched over to the other boy, nudging him with his elbow. "Hey."_

"_Leave me alone."_

"_I didn't mean it." Matthew said quietly. "I really do wanna play that new game."_

"…_And you're not gonna get married and ditch me, right?"_

"_No, I'm too young." Matthew said, almost wistfully thinking of Miss Braginskaya's cheerful smile and flowery perfume._

_Alfred was silent for a moment before he said, in an uncharacteristically subdued voice, said, "And I didn't mean what I said either. You're my best friend and I do need you."_

_Matthew grinned happily and grabbed Alfred's hand, all other possible meanings behind the boy's words flying over his head. "Ditto."_

_Alfred smiled brightly and tugged the other blond. "C'mon, like I said, that game isn't gonna play itself!"_

_Joking and play shoving each other the entire way, the two boys finally arrived at Alfred's house. Waving merrily at Matthew's mother who was gardening in the front yard (Matthew lived across the street from Alfred), they ran up the driveway of Alfred's house and Alfred began to punch in the garage door code._

"_Oh, by the way, my brother's visiting." Alfred said off-handedly. "He's kinda a jerk, so watch out for him."_

"_You have a brother?" Matthew repeated, confused. Every since he moved from Canada and befriended the vivacious American, he had never seen any siblings nor had Alfred mentioned any._

"_Yeah. He goes to some fancy-shmancy boarding school in England." Alfred shrugged, kicking off his shoes and throwing down his backpack. "He just graduated so he's coming back for the summer."_

"_Oh." Matthew untied his shoes and neatly placed them against the wall before dropping his backpack next to them as Alfred ran towards the kitchen._

"_Want a Twinkie Mattie?"_

_Scrunching up his nose, Matthew shouted, "Those things are so gross!"_

"_Are not! They're the snack food of heroes!" There was a beat of silence, then, "Dude! We could totally deep fry these things!" _

_Laughing and nauseous, Matthew began to jog past the stairs, intent on stopping Alfred before the blond actually attempted to deep-fry the snacks. Unfortunately, running on wooden floors while wearing socks isn't the best idea._

_Pitching forward, Matthew yelped and threw his arms out to break his fall, as the glossy floor loomed closer._

_Luckily, before Matthew's face could slam into the wood, he was jerked back by a strong arm wrapping around his waist._

"_You should really be more careful." An accented voice scolded, not unkindly but in a faintly annoyed manner._

_Matthew looked up and felt the strangest tingling sensation in his stomach. Green eyes, nearly overshadowed by unnaturally thick eyebrows, regarded him with amusement. _

_The young man promptly set him right on his feet and patted him on the head. "Alright there, lad?"_

_Matthew just stared at the young man who, eyebrows aside, seemed pretty cool. Studs in his ears and wearing torn black jeans and a playful smirk on his face, the young man straightened up and said, "So what are you lot up to now?"_

_The Canadian boy finally noticed that Alfred had come out of the kitchen, most likely hearing his yelp, and was watching the pair with narrowed eyes and a small frown._

"_None of your business, Arthur." He said brusquely, storming over and grabbing Matthew before tugging him away. _

_But instead of allowing his self to be dragged away, Matthew pulled back and, cheeks rosy, turned back to Arthur, who he now knew was Alfred' mysterious older brother, saying, "I'm Matthew."_

_The distrust in his expression when he was addressing Alfred disappeared and was replaced by a gentle smile. "Nice to meet you, Matthew."_

_Before said blond could respond, Alfred was now tugging him away with both hands. "Blah blah blah. That game is still waiting y'know?"_

_Matthew couldn't help but glance back over Arthur, a shy smile on his face._

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me!" Matthew exclaimed, violet eyes sparkling, while slipping into the empty seat next to Alfred at their round lunch table.

Alfred, far more interested in seeing how many French fries could fit on his burger and not fall out, barely managed to grunt questioningly before proceeding to ignore Matthew completely. Eyes excited and bright, the teen gingerly raised the burger up to his mouth. "Come to daddy~" he cooed, bringing the concoction to his lips before taking a large bite. "Mmph…" he mumbled, a moan rumbling in the back of his throat, a smear of ketchup on his lips as his face relaxed into blissful emptiness, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.

Matthew felt his stomach recoil in disgust as Alfred, still in the process of chewing, took another bite. How the other boy could derive such satisfaction from a meal more grease than anything else, was something he could never understand.

"Arthur is teaching English here and you never said anything." Matthew said again, this time more accusingly, deciding not to pay any more attention to his friend's eating habits.

Alfred rolled his eyes behind his glasses and reached for his soda. "'o?" He said, mouth full of food, while shrugging before taking a deep swig from the bottle.

"He's my new teacher—" Matthew was cut off by the sudden exclamation of surprise from Alfred, accompanied by him spitting out the mess of burger, fries, and soda all over the table. "—That is so gross, Al."

Ignoring the filth on the table and dripping down his chin and the disgusted looks other students were sending him, Alfred turned to Matthew with wide eyes. "He's your teacher!"

"Um, yeah." Matthew responded quietly, ducking his head and handing Alfred a napkin, acutely aware of the all the attention they were getting. "4th period English Literature."

"God-fucking-damnit." Alfred swore, snatching the napkin and wiping his mouth. He had really hoped Matthew wouldn't have Arthur as a teacher this year.

Arthur, after completing his degree, decided to come back to the local high school and teach a few years while working on his PhD in the States. Alfred hadn't been pleased. And it wasn't because he and Arthur had a rocky relationship.

"Its not so ba—"

"Not for you." Alfred scowled, shoving his tray away and glaring at his best friend. "You're totally in love with him."

Matthew, though he flushed a deep crimson, didn't deny Alfred's words. Instead, gearing his self up for a verbal altercation that he was confident he'd win, he snapped, "And why is that such a bad thing?"

"Because now all you're ever gonna talk about will be him!"

"That is so not true!"

"Yes it is. God, it's not even okay! He's a teacher." Alfred made a face. He never could understand what exactly Matthew saw in his older brother. The guy was totally boring and got angry easily and did not embrace the godly invention known as tweezers. "That's like ten times worse."

"Why are you freaking out, Al? That's a good thing."

"No, no its not. You have a _thing_ for teachers."

"I do n—"

Alfred snorted indelicately, using a fistful of napkins to wipe the mess off the table and onto the floor. "You so do. Don't think I don't know about you and Mr. Frenchiepants."

Matthew bit his lip and lowered his gaze. "…H-how…?"

"You're almost fluent in French, Matt. Its not like you needed extra help." Alfred muttered, not looking at his friend. "And its not like he was subtle."

Which was true, though the amorous Frenchman tended to flirt with everyone (students, teachers, the occasional animal), he reserved special attention for Matthew (which most people just attributed to the fact that Matthew Williams, regardless of the class, was just the type of student teachers liked—quiet, respectful, and studious.).

"Al—

"Cornering you after class, touching your shoulder whenever he talked to you, just generally perving on you." Alfred continued. "If you were really uncomfortable, you would have said something."

Okay, maybe Matthew had a thing for authority figures, particularly teachers. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't deny the flicker of attraction when faced with certain teachers. Why? Alfred wasn't really sure, but he had a feeling it started all the way back in grade school in Miss Braginskaya's class.

"So, Arthur plus one of your favorite classes," Alfred frowned, a note of bitterness in his voice. "Not a good combo, dude."

"Alfred, you know I wouldn't... do anything." Matthew said softly. And he genuinely felt a little guilty because Alfred knew that he had a crush on Arthur and it had often caused disagreements between them.

Alfred knew very well that Matthew wouldn't have intended it and wouldn't initiate something, but his friend tended to fall deeper and harder for a person no matter the circumstance. He was loyal to a fault, but was quick to become infatuated with someone who, in some way, noticed him (since he leant towards obscurity in school despite being an avid athlete and good student and fairly attractive) and went out of his or her way to know him.

The French teacher had taken a special interest in Matthew since the beginning of their freshman year. Matthew, born in Montreal with family in Quebec and France, had connected with the teacher who lived in Montreal briefly, despite being born and raised in France. What had started as an innocent relationship, at some point, shifted and neither party really complained about it.

Alfred only found out because he had burst into the French classroom looking for Matthew and stumbled on a rather intimate moment. Neither male noticed him, so, angry and hurt at Matthew's secretive behavior, he had snuck out and left an anonymous note, his stomach twisting in jealousy, in the Principal's mailbox.

Monsieur Bonnefoy resigned halfway through the year and Matthew had been incredibly heartbroken, much to Alfred's annoyance. But the blond had comforted his friend, taking him out and keeping him busy so he wouldn't have time to think about that blond haired lothario.

Matthew, unfortunately, fell in and out of love quickly so he got over the teacher's resignation. However, that also meant that someone new sparked his interest. Annoyingly, Matthew had been infatuated with each of his friends (excluding Alfred) over the years.

He had only briefly pointed it out over the years since Matthew would always get defensive and angry and point out that there were plenty of things Alfred did that Matthew didn't agree with—like throwing wild parties that earned him a permanent spot on the 'People to Watch Out for' list the police had (he had often been accosted by the cops when they mistook him for Alfred—at least they had been quite apologetic when they realized their mistake) or when Alfred tied together fireworks and cackled as he set them off in random parts of town, indoors and outdoors (he claimed it was tradition and patriotism, Matthew said it was insanity) or when Alfred just generally tried to help people without knowing anything about the situation. Alfred usually ended up in the fetal position, tears streaming down his face as Matthew continued to rant on about each and every minute shortcoming of Alfred's. Matthew would usually get tired and then buy Alfred food and place him in front of a mirror (or something in which Alfred could look at himself and indulge his inner narcissist) and say repeatedly to the blue-eyed boy "Who's the hero? You are. Who's the best? You are" until Alfred was chanting it with a movie-star grin on his boyish face.

So soon Alfred rarely brought Matthew's issue up, consoling himself with the fact that at least every infatuation was fleeting and maybe one day Matthew would realize that Alfred would do anything for him and that, as far as he was concerned, Matthew was his soul mate (Matthias joked that Alfred believed that wherever Matthew stepped flowers grew and that the Canadian pissed rainbows and shat happiness.)

(Alfred gave Matthias a black eye and split lip that day, but didn't refute anything the wild-haired teen said.)

Yes, every infatuation was fleeting. Except the one with Arthur. No, that bitch had lasted for years and Alfred had no idea why.

"But why didn't you tell me?"

_Because I'm jealous and you should know that already._ "Because I wanted it to be a surprise." Alfred said with pseudo-cheer. "So…um…surprise!" Maybe his stupid crush would wear off and Alfred could finally win over Matthew (because past attempts had failed miserably).

Matthew looked entirely unconvinced but let it slide. "Come on, let's switch tables." He glanced at Alfred's lunch that was flecked with bits of half-chewed food and soda. "And get you some more food."

"You're paying."

Matthew stuck his tongue out but didn't argue with the other boy, just happy to change the subject for now.

* * *

As independent as I believe Matthew is, I think that, if we're going by the strips, that he would tend to cling to people who pay attention to him since he didn't seem to receive much of it. Yes, Matthew has a teacher-kink. Why? -shrugs- Anyways, this was gonna be a one-shot but then I started typing it and it turned out to be longer. 8| So it'll be multi-part, but I doubt it'll be really, really long. But who knows? You'd think I would, but these plot bunnies have a mind of their own. -glares at plot bunny who is nibbling her socks- Not now Mr. Fluffybottom.

Oh and Matthias is Denmark.

So, is this story worth continuing?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.

* * *

"_Um…hi?" Matthew said softly, shifting awkwardly as he stared up at the yawning teenager leaning against the frame of the open door. "Is Alfred home?" He asked, cheeks darkening as the older boy blinked down at him, green eyes drowsy. _

"_The little twat's got practice or some rot like that." Arthur muttered, squinting against the harsh light. "Bloody sunlight." He scowled, knitting his thick eyebrows together. _

_Matthew felt his chest go cold as the older boy's words sunk in. "But…" He protested, clutching his worn baseball glove closer to his chest. "…he invited me over to play catch today."_

"_Brat says a lot of things, just can't remember a single word." Arthur said indifferently as he shrugged, before catching sight of the way Matthew's face fell. The teenager shifted uncomfortably, feeling a burst of pity for the blond as the child sniffled softly._

"_Stupid Alfred." Matthew said vehemently, sniffling ceasing suddenly. "He always does this!" He looked up, sharply, indigo eyes indignant. "He said that we'd play together every day this summer so I shouldn't sign up for camp because he wasn't either! That…that…hoser!" _

_The final word was filled with so much fury and his tiny body trembled with understandable anger that Arthur's lips twitched upwards (even as his head pounded and he felt like his brain was being dashed against the inside of his skull)._

"_Listen up, poppet." He said loudly, silencing Matthew mid-rant. "How about you let me wash up—had quite the bender last night, completely shitfaced I was—and have a quick cup of tea and then you and I'll have ourselves a jolly good time without that git." He studied the younger boy thoughtfully, tousling his choppy hair. "…How do you spell centre?" _

_Matthew just stared at him. "C-e-n-t-r-e. Or c-e-n-t-e-r, if you're going the American way." He said slowly. "…Why?"_

_Arthur grinned brightly, then. "No reason. We'll get along just swell…" He trailed off, blinking._

"_Matthew." The younger blond sighed. _

"_Right, of course." Arthur laughed and turned on his heel, absent-mindedly tugging up his Union Jack boxers. "Never drink, mate. It'll fuck with your head." He paused before adding. "Don't swear either."_

_Matthew, still upset with Alfred, couldn't help but smile, excited to spend the day with the cool teenager. _

* * *

"This is so unfair!" Alfred huffed, slamming down the beaker, its contents lapping the rim dangerously.

"Please be careful more careful." Kiku warned, eyeing the blond warily. "Perhaps I should—"

"What does he even see in him?" Alfred continued, blue eyes annoyed and completely oblivious to his lab partner's attempts to confiscate the chemicals. "He knits doilies. He quotes Shakespeare. He drinks _tea._"

"I like tea." Kiku interjected politely, finally succeeding in taking away the beaker as the blond began to sulk, flopping over onto the black tabletop and burrowing his face into the sleeves of his white lab coat, safety goggles pushed up onto his forehead.

"And he's old." Alfred spat out, voice muffled.

"What's wrong with that?" The Japanese boy asking softly and thinking of his own boyfriend who was a Classics major at the university. Far be it for him to impose his view's on Alfred's infatuation with his best friend, but Kiku couldn't really bear to see the normally rambunctious blond so depressed. For one, they would never get the experiment done and then they'd fail the assignment. And secondly, Alfred was a good friend of his. "Perhaps you should simply confess to Matthew? Leave a note in his locker asking to meet him at the rooftop and—"

"Dude, that sounds so gay." Alfred interrupted loudly.

Kiku bristled, fingers briefly tightening around the vial of acid.

* * *

"Mr. Kirkland?" Matthias asked loudly, expression horrified. "Another teacher? Damn it, Williams."

"I can't help it, Matthias." Matthew snapped, wondering if he could bash the taller teen over the head without the coach seeing. "And I liked him even before he was a teacher—"

"Not that!" The Danish boy whined. "I just lost the bet."

Next to him Anders grinned a little viciously. "Pay up." He snickered. "Big brother's saving up for a new pair of blades."

Matthew looked at Matthias and then Anders. "You two bet on who I would have a crush on next?" He asked quietly, indigo eyes frosty.

"Uh…" Matthias glanced at Anders and then the Canadian before dashing away, screaming, "Berwald!"

Anders remained standing there. He looked at Matthew with contrite eyes. "Hot chocolate? My treat." He promised.

"Damn straight." Matthew muttered, skating away.

* * *

"Mr. Williams." Arthur said, looking up and catching Matthew's attention before the student left the room.

"Sir?" Matthew asked hesitantly, heart fluttering as his longtime crush smiled faintly at him. "Is there a problem?"

"I was hoping to ask you that." Arthur responded, standing up and gathering his papers. "You and Alfred are still quite close, I hear."

"Yes sir." Matthew asked, a little nervously.

"I hope that you don't believe, in light of your friendship with my brother and our past relationship, that I will be lenient with you." He eyed Matthew sharply. "I despise favoritism, Mr. Williams."

"Of course not, sir!" Matthew reassured hurriedly. "The thought never crossed my mind."

"Good." Arthur nodded briskly before his expression softened. "That being said, Matthew, I do hope that we can maintain our friendship outside of school and keep it separate from here. I am your teacher after all." He straightened and shut his briefcase with a decisive snap.

Matthew just grinned, secretly swearing that he'd keep his childish infatuation hidden for his, Arthur's, and especially Alfred's sake.

It wasn't that Matthew went out of his way to fall for his and Alfred's mutual friends, it just happened. And, unfortunately, it often resulted in a strained relationship between he, Alfred, and the recipient of his infatuation.

Even if Matthew never ended up dating said friend, things would become weird and tense, a small chasm opening up and widening until the friends just drifted apart, realizing that perhaps distance was necessary.

There were a few friends with which things did not end messily. Those people were Matthew's hockey teammates (who were more than happy to be on the receiving end of Matthew's interest—especially Anders who briefly dated Matthew and still carried his books from time to time) and Ivan (who was just happy to have someone relatively sane interested in him and glad to find another way to annoy Alfred) and Miguel (who also was pleased to find another way to annoy Alfred). Matthew had been honest with each person, desperate not to lose those friendships like he had others when he realized that he wouldn't be able to continue the friendship without pining for the other person.

Of course, the greatest success story had been with Alfred. To this day, Alfred remained oblivious to Matthew's on-and-off again, ephemeral instances of puppy love.

Matthew didn't think he could bear it if Alfred rejected him (like Lars who only liked preteen girls—though he had let Matthew down gently and with regret and still kept in constant contact with the boy).

So Matthew couldn't let this crush on Arthur become anything more. If it did, he'd only end up hurt again (like after Francis left). Arthur would rebuff him.

And Alfred would hate him.

So Matthew just excused himself from his classroom, forcing away the butterflies in his stomach when Arthur smiled at him.

* * *

"_You've been hanging out with him?" Alfred shrieked, ignoring the way his ice cream dripped down the cone and down his fingers. _

"_Well its not like you were there." Matthew pointed out snidely, glaring at Alfred while licking his own ice cream. "You were too busy at baseball practice."_

"_I said I was sorry dude!"_

_Matthew shrugged indifferently. "Arthur is cool."_

"_You're on first-name basis too?"_

"_He taught me how to play rugby."_

_Alfred looked horrified, eyes wide and mouth open before shouting. "Traitor!" He pointed accusingly at Matthew. _

"_You're being ridiculous." The other blond snapped. "I like hi—" He was cut off by an ice cream cone being shoved into his face. Sputtering, the Canadian wiped the melting treat off his face and stared incredulously at Alfred whose face was crimson and enraged._

_Matthew, not one to let a challenge go unanswered—especially when it was Alfred—snarled and launched himself at the other boy, tackling him roughly to the ground and shoving his own ice cream into his face while shouting some choice French words that his mother warned him to never repeat (but he thought this was a good time)._

_The boys wrestled for a while, taking turns shoving the other's face into the dirt and yelling things that would've most definitely earned them a time out. _

_Finally, after several minutes of furious grappling, the two boys collapsed against each other in exhaustion, breathing heavily and faces flushed._

"_I bet…you guys are…like…best friends now." Alfred whispered, hands clenched into tight fists, an inexplicable, familiar feeling rising in the pit of his stomach. _

"_You're so dumb." Matthew responded, throwing a tuft of grass at Alfred. "I like him, but I like you more."_

_Alfred looked over at his friend, disbelief written on his face. "Really?" He twisted around, shifting to his knees as he grabbed Matthew's dirty shirt and shook him lightly. "I'm your favorite for real?"_

"_Yeah, of course!" Matthew rolled his eyes, slapping away Alfred's hand, before laughing as the other blond threw himself at him and pulled him, unresisting, into a bear hug._

_When Matthew hit puberty and had his first wet dream about his old grade school teacher, he didn't tell Alfred._

_But the first time he kissed the pretty exchange student from Seychelles, he did tell Alfred because the other blond had been bragging about getting a hickey from the new student from Vietnam._

_Alfred had patted him on the back and congratulated him after a beat of silence._

_

* * *

A few months later Arthur came for a visit and took both boys for a soccer game._

_Alfred fell asleep before halftime so Arthur spent the game patiently explaining the finer points of the sport to Matthew and the younger boy had sat, listening raptly, as Arthur gripped his shoulder and offered a play-by-play commentary._

_That night Matthew dreamt of being pushed down onto that grassy field as Arthur hovered above him, smiling rakishly and jade eyes gleaming._

_He shared the dream with Alfred, emboldened by their close friendship. Alfred had sat still and said nothing. When he did speak, he pretended as though Matthew hadn't said anything._

_After that, Matthew was careful not to mention Arthur around Alfred. It was after that moment, that the troublesome crushes started and Alfred and he began to argue more._

_

* * *

_

And there you have it folks. Alfred's little crush isn't quite as unrequited as he believes. -evil grin- And I see younger Arthur as a weird mix of old Arthur and Gilbert? (Delinquent? Why yes, yes). Yeah, so, still worth continuing? And, if so, what should the pairing ultimately be? Al/Matt? Arthur/Matt? THREESOME? -shot repeatedly-

R&R please!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Do not own.

* * *

"What's cooking, Pops?" Alfred asked, placing his elbows on the granite countertop and leaning forward to watch his father season some ground beef.

"Meatloaf." Replied the older Jones. He smiled at his son, blue eyes twinkling. "Your brother is coming for dinner."

The grin on Alfred's face immediately dropped and his entire demeanor seemed to sour. "Oh." He said blankly, straightening up. "I'm going to Matthew's then."

"Alfred." George said sternly and when his son paused, reluctantly, and looked at him, the older man continued. "Arthur is your brother, my boy. This is the first time he's been home since he arrived back in the States."

"Yeah but its not like he's going anywhere." Alfred grumbled.

"You used to adore Arthur, Alfred." His father frowned. "You followed him everywhere."

"That was before he left and started being a jerk." And before he drove a wedge between me and Matthew, Alfred added mentally.

George sighed, still marinating the ground beef. "Why don't you invite Matthew for dinner? Would that make it more bearable?"

"Just forget it." Alfred barely held himself back from snarling as he stomped out of the kitchen.

Yeah, invite Matthew over for dinner. With his luck Matthew would make doe eye at Arthur all night in between giving him guilty looks and staring at his steamed broccoli in an attempt to distract himself from the eyebrowed wonder across the table.

Maybe Alfred wasn't being fair. He had Matthew's word and Alfred knew Matthew would confront him and be honest if anything had the slightest chance of happening. But it was Arthur and that was what worried Alfred the most.

Arthur, Alfred maintained, was not a good guy. He drank, smoked, and had piercings. He went through women and men faster than socks and could make even a sailor blush when he was really mad.

That wouldn't even be so bad if his brother was upfront about it. But no, instead Arthur covered himself in the veneer of a gentlemen now. He wore tweed and sweater vests and pretended that he didn't know how to hotwire a car nor did he use his pipe for substances other than tobacco.

His mom and dad and Matthew didn't hear Arthur joke with his friends on the phone at midnight, reminiscing about their exploits at school. Alfred, in his underoos and hiding behind the couch, used to listen to the sandy-haired teen and eventually realized that the other had changed and didn't regret it.

So when Arthur told him to not to go into his room, Alfred "accidently' spilled grape juice on the other's textbooks that were scattered across his desk. When Arthur told him not to answer the phone, Alfred picked it up and told Arthur's Portuguese girlfriend that her boyfriend had the runs. When he came home from baseball practice and found Arthur teaching Matthew rugby in their backyard, the sandy-haired boy teasingly grabbing the younger in a mock-tackle and spinning him around in the air (both laughing), Alfred had stormed back inside, throwing down his baseball mitt, and found Arthur's favorite tea and flushed it down the toilet.

Needless to say, the Jones-Kirkland family was a warzone whenever Arthur returned from school and soon the older son just stopped coming back during holidays.

* * *

"Pass the salt."

"Say please, douche."

"Alfred don't speak to your brother like that!"

"Sorry Ma. Here's the salt, Eyebrows."

"Alfred."

"Well its true."

"_Alfred_."

"…Sorry, Arthur."

"Its fine. Thanks for the salt, git."

"You're welcome….limey."

"Heard that, Yank."

"Fuck you!"

"Get bent!"

"Boys!"

* * *

"Matthew!"

Said blond turned at the sound of his name, hand poised to grab a carton of eggs from the shelf. "Margot?" His eyes widened as the pretty blonde waved at him before hurrying towards him.

His stomach immediately plummeted and the boy looked around, wondering if he could make a quick escape. But, alas, before he could move, the girl was already next to him.

"Hi Margot." Matthew said, an uncertain smile playing on his lips. "You look good."

The girl laughed, looking down at her navy flats before fidgeting and peering back up at him. "So do you, Matthew." She replied softly.

Margot had been his girlfriend last year….before he met her brother, Lars, and his affections switched to the other sibling.

"Um…making waffles?" The blond male asked, violet eyes curious when he noticed the bags of flour and powdered sugar.

"Yup." Margot smiled at him. "Special study snack." She giggled.

Matthew smiled at her, remembering how it was that same giggle of hers that attracted him in the first place. She had been having some trouble with guys harassing her and Matthew, returning from a hockey game and still running on adrenaline, had stopped to help her.

Margot had giggled when he apologized for his strong language after the jerks had run off and offered to buy him dinner as thanks.

They dated for a full month before the girl brought him home to meet her family.

They lasted another week after that.

"A delicious study snack." Matthew agreed, shifting from foot to foot as he studied the other's face for any sign of lingering anger.

Margot hadn't even yelled at him when he told her the truth. She had just looked at him,

The blonde's face softened at his discomfort. "I'm not mad, Matthew." She explained softly. "I still want to be friends."

Matthew looked at her warily and she continued. "You avoided me after that day and Lars told me what happened. We're okay. Its not your fault." She reached out, tousling his blond waves fondly with a smile that almost made his heart skip a beat.

For not the first time, Matthew wished he could just have a relationship and keep it.

* * *

"Hot chocolate with whip." Alfred smiled charmingly when Matthew looked up at, pulled his head back to give him a curious look, one eyebrow quirked.

"Occasion?" He teased, taking the Starbucks cup and feeling its warmth seep into his fingers.

"Do I need one to buy my best bro his favorite drink?" The other blond retorted, collapsing gracelessly into the empty desk next to the Canadian. He popped the lid of his coffee, steam from the hot liquid curling up in faint plumes.

"Its just awfully generous of you." Matthew mused, taking a small sip lest he scald his tongue. "But thanks, Al."

Alfred looked at him, a different grin on his face—less brash and cocky and all around softer at the edges. "Anytime, Mattie."

Matthew's heart skipped a beat.

Fuck.

* * *

"Profoundly disturbed by the death of his father, Prince Hamlet returns to the Danish court and struggles to find some meaning in his once familiar world." Arthur looked out at the class, pleased to see that at least no one was dozing despite the fact that every student wore similar glazed expressions. The teacher continued, "I expect the book to be finished by this Friday. We will spend the next class period discussing the first two acts. Shakepeare's language isn't the easiest to keep up with so make note of phrases you don't understand. Ask yourselves this as you read: Can you ever truly be certain?"

His sharp green eyes surveyed the class. "Now you lot can leave." He shook his head, turning to his desk as the sound of desks and chairs scraping the floor filled the room and the students began to chatter, shuffling to their feet and getting ready to rush to wherever.

A gaggle of girls walked past his desk, giggling loudly and throwing him sweet smiles as they passed. Other students said goodbye while others still just rushed out without another glance.

"Thank you Mr. Kirkland." A soft voice caught his attention and Arthur smiled as Matthew walked past, violet eyes cautiously avoiding too much eye contact.

"Take care, Matthew."

* * *

"Whoo! The last Jello cup." The student cheered, snatching up the red jiggling cubes, paying no attention to the blond that had been about to grab it.

"Hoser." Matthew muttered, reaching for an apple instead. Grabbing a carton of chocolate milk, the teen quickly paid for his lunch and, having received a text that Alfred had to cram for a Physics quiz during lunch (that also requested that Matthew bring him a sandwich soon otherwise he'd waste away to skin and bone) located his teammates sitting at a round table next to a window in the lunchroom.

"You didn't get any Jello?" Matthias asked, already slurping up the dessert. "Sucks to be you."

Matthew glared at the taller teen and took a seat. "Watch yourself at practice." He muttered darkly, unwrapping his sandwich and balling up the cling wrap and dropping it to his tray.

Berwald held out his bowl of Jello, but Matthew shook his head. "No, its okay."

The bigger teen put it on his tray anyways. "You're a grow'ng boy." He said, voice barring any argument.

"So how was class with Mr. Kirkland?" Matthias teased.

"We're reading _Hamlet._" Matthew replied curtly, violet eyes annoyed. "Nothing is going to happen, Matthias so shut up."

"Maybe if you showed a little more skin…"

Tino's eyes turned frosty and Berwald's face darkened.

It was at that moment Anders reached the table and, his pale blue eyes narrowing, drove his elbow into the back of the other boy's head as he sat down.

Fridrik, taking a seat next to Matthew, added, speaking to the wild-haired blond. "You might want to skip practice."

* * *

"Ham and cheese." Matthew tossed the wrapped sandwich to Alfred who was frantically working out a physics problem, one hand putting in numbers into his trusty calculator even as his pencil scratched across the notebook paper.

"Thanks." Alfred said distractedly.

Matthew pushed himself up onto the table, careful not to disturb any of his friend's papers. "Good luck on the quiz." He said softly.

"It's a pop quiz." Alfred admitted with a quick laugh, before boxing his answer neatly. "I overheard some guys in the hallway mention it and, well, I'm not taking any chances." He paused, finally registering the sandwich. A sly smile overtook his face and, in a sweet voice, he asked, "Feed me?"

Matthew raised an eyebrow and just stared at the other's innocent expression. "No." He replied flatly.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"-"

"Fine!" Matthew scowled, snatching the sandwich and tearing it open, holding it out for his friend.

Alfred leaned forward, taking a large bite of it, crumbs falling to dust his work, chewing nosily.

Matthew had a faint blush on his cheeks and he surreptitiously looked around, hoping no one was watching.

* * *

"Check." Alfred said, leaning back and sighing. "I've been thinking, Kiku."

The Japanese student, dark eyes flickering over the chessboard vainly in an attempt to avoid the mess, just hummed in response.

"Why should I just let Matthew go without a fight? He's my best friend and its not like boyfriend is a huge step. Sure, we just hold hands a little more…maybe kiss…" His face pinkened at the thought.

Granted, he had dreamt of more…kinkier scenarios (pro tip: never watch porn before bed), but to actually do have the things he fantasized about…well…

…Baby steps, Jones, baby steps.

Seeing that Kiku had made his move, Alfred reached for his rook. "Check." He said, before continuing. "I mean, I've waited for years for him to just look me like he looked at everyone else. But no more pussying out." He clenched his hand into a fist, a determined glint settling in his bright eyes.

"You will confess?"

"Better. I'll win him over." Alfred snickered. "He'll totally forget about Arthur."

"Do you have a plan?" Kiku asked, scouring the board for yet another way out. Finding one, the corners of his lips briefly curved upwards.

"Even better, dude. I have confidence. Checkmate." Alfred finished, flashing a winning grin at the other boy.

Kiku didn't know if the way his stomach churned was because he had just lost the match or because Alfred was running into another half thought out plan.

Or if it was indigestion.

* * *

Btw, when I asked about pairings last chapter...not gonna lie...but I said threesome as a joke. ...And then I saw the response. o.O And I just said "...Oh _goddamnit..._Maybe it could work..." But, idk right now. To be honest, I don't even know what's going to happen next chapter guys. Lol.

Happy New Years everyone!


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